Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Korea South and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Pantytec to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All Notorious Big And Bone Thugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gregory Isaacs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultra Naté record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shoche,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Red Krayola,
Slave,
Soul Sonic Force,
Quantec,
Mars,
Surgeon,
Matthew Halsall,
The Remains,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Nils Olav,
K-Klass,
Rapeman,
Animal Collective,
The Residents,
The Names,
Radiopuhelimet,
Althea and Donna,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Aswad,
FM Einheit,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Rufus Thomas,
Bill Wells,
Gichy Dan,
Liliput,
Davy DMX,
Schoolly D,
The Birthday Party,
Joensuu 1685,
Excepter,
The New Christs,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
London Community Gospel Choir,
China Crisis,
the Bar-Kays,
Khruangbin,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Jeff Lynne,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Alarm Clocks,
Kool Moe Dee,
Das Ding,
The Monochrome Set,
Black Sheep,
The Pretty Things,
R.M.O.,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Slackers,
Index,
Roger Hodgson,
Bobby Byrd,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Alison Limerick,
Isaac Hayes,
Los Fastidios,
Blossom Toes,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Pagans,
Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.